Of Heroes and Families
by neko-nya
Summary: When Alfred first met Mathieu, he thought the boy had the perfect life with the perfect family. Now, after returning a decade later, he struggles to discover why the world he'd once known has been completely turned upside down.
1. Prologue

Of Heroes and Families

Prologue:

Alfred renewed his passion for living when he was nine years old.

He'd been an angry child at that age and had just run away from home after a particularly nasty spat with his older brother and legal guardian. Ever since their parents passed away, the tension between the two had been rising. Although inside, he understood that his brother was trying his best to work out the kinks of their new lifestyle, patience had never been a strength of his. And with the two of them stressed out and on the edge, it was clear that they weren't going to resolve their problems any time soon.

* * *

As he made his way down the street, he heard a soft, troubled voice and decided to go see what the problem was. There was a little boy around his age, standing at the foot of a tree and looking up with tears in his eyes which were an odd shade of blue, a little closer to purple. Thinking back, he never could figure out what compelled him to approach the other boy…

"Hey, is something wrong?"

The blond turned to him and quickly wiped his tears away with his sleeves and nodded sadly, answering honestly, "o-oui…my bear…Ivan got it stuck in th-the tree. He didn't do it on purpose b-but…it was a present from papa and maman." He gave a soft sniffle and began fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves, "I really need a hero right now…"

From studying at the little French boy's attire, it was obvious that the child was well off or at least financially stable. Maybe it was the way the boy didn't seem to blame this 'Ivan' figure in the least for the predicament or his unrealistically childish wish for a hero to appear or even simply the way he was crying, but either way, Alfred rubbed the back of his head and looked up the tree where the stuffed bear was trapped for a moment before turning back to the other with a quiet offer, "I can get it down for you."

Widened violet eyes blinked, "p-pardon?"

He repeated himself, more confidently this time. "I'll get your bear down for you. I'm no hero but I'm really good at climbing trees. I'll get it for you, so stop crying, okay? Just wait here." Having given his bold little spiel, he reached up for the closest branch and pulled himself up and began climbing.

The blond hesitated before calling out softly, "Um, please be careful…"

"Don't worry, I will." Flushing slightly with pride at the fact that he was doing something that warranted the boy's concern. It wasn't even the highest tree he'd climbed. He quickly began scaling up the tree.

Once he was on the same branch as the little white bear, he reached over and freed it from the grasp of the tree. Looking down at the other below, he yelled out, "hey, kid! Catch!"

The boy immediately began scampering around beneath him, desperate to catch his toy as it fell. And though he half expected the child to thank him and run off, the other remained at the bottom of the tree, waiting for him. The second his feet touched the ground, the child ran over to him and gave him a surprisingly tight hug. He would've never suspected that those skinny limbs could be capable of such a grip. With a grip like that, how did the boy lose his bear in the first place? But the boy was smiling so brightly that he couldn't find it in him to comment on the other's grip. "T-thank you very much for rescuing my bear!" Then, clasping his hand lightly, the blond looked at him timidly, "Um…sorry, I don't know your name."

"Alfred."

The child smiled again, "Alfred, my name's Mathieu. It's very nice to meet you. W-would you mind coming with me?"

Not resisting the other's gentle tug, he asked Mathieu, "Where are we going?"

"To see maman and papa!"

Wordlessly, he followed the French boy down the block and into a house nearby.

* * *

Inside, they navigated through the house into the kitchen where a blond man with wavy hair and a light beard was standing and in the middle of preparing something. Once they stepped in, the man turned around with an easy smile on his lips and a spatula in his hands. His eyes, unlike his son's, were blue as they looked over at him. "Oh? You brought a friend home, mon cher?"

Mathieu shook his head to politely correct him, "no, papa, Alfred's more than a friend! He's my hero! He showed up just when I needed him most, just like in maman's stories!"

He could feel his cheeks flush in embarrassment at the compliment, but at the same time, it made him swell with pride inside.

Then a woman's voice came from behind, startling him. "What's this talk about heroes now, Mathieu?"

The boy turned around and beamed at the lady while still holding onto his hand. Ah, so that's where he got that shade of purple from. "Maman! This is Alfred! He saved Kuma, Kuma…"

" I'll never understand why you chose such a difficult name for the bear. It's Kumajirou, mon cher."

"Oui! Alf saved Kumajirou!"

The boy's father laughed, "Well, a hero certainly deserves a reward. Would you like a snack, Alfred?"

The brunette studied the boys as she ran a hand through her ponytail with a slight frown on her lips. "Hold on a second, Francis. Mathieu, does Alfred's papa or maman know he's here?"

The blond paused hesitantly before replying a bit guiltily, "no…I don't think so."

Alfred quickly stepped forward, "that's okay though! I'm running away from home right now anyways."

The adults exchanged looks between themselves. Then Francis offered him a cupcake and asked gently, "Now why would a hero like you be running away from home?"

He accepted the treat and took a bite, "because Artie's being mean. He's a stupid brother. This is really good, mister! He doesn't need me around anyways and I don't need him either so I decided to run away. Ever since mum and dad went away, he's been really cranky all the time. He's no fun anymore! He's always upset with me and I…I…" he gave a sniffle and held back his tears.

The lady raised a brow before pulling out a chair while the man picked Mathieu up. She knelt down and cupped his face gently, just like his own mother used to do. "Mon cher, here, take a seat. You don't have to keep it in, alright? You poor thing. You must've been keeping this to yourself for such a long time now. Come, you can tell us if something's bothering you, Alfred."

Looking at the woman, he could feel tears stinging at his eyes as the woman pulled him into a hug. He could smell the smell of her perfume as he sat there; it was so different from what his mother used to wear which only made his tears spill over. "I-I miss mum and dad! Artie doesn't have time for me anymore! He's always out working or talking to lawyers or studying! We never get to play and he's always tired! I don't want to go home! I want mum and dad to come back so things can be like they used to!"

The brunette merely held him tighter. But then after awhile, she loosened her grip and looked at him warmly, "It's alright, mon cher, you can cry. This must've been so hard on you, but you'll have to go home to your brother eventually."

His head snapped up in protest, feeling betrayed, "Why?"

The man ran a hand through his hair soothingly, "because your brother must be worried sick about you. Maybe you don't want to hear this from us right now, but you wouldn't want to leave him all alone, would you? Alfred, without you, would your brother have anyone else?"

Sullenly, he shook his head. The idea of leaving Arthur on his own unsettled him and filled him with guilt. "No…"

"Alf."

Still teary eyed, he looked at the other boy who was a stranger a mere half an hour ago, "what is it, Mattie?"

The Frenchman set the boy down onto the ground. Mathieu smiled as he looked up at him, "I-if you ever want to play with someone, you can come find me, papa, and maman! We'll be here so if you ever need us, just come here! Papa makes really tasty snacks and maman tells the best stories! Alf can come here whenever he wants, right, papa?"

Francis nodded proudly, "Oui, that's exactly right, mon petit. Very nicely said, you must get it from your maman."

The brunette laughed and let go of him in favour of getting up and linking arms with her husband, "What are you talking about, Francis? You're the sweet talker in this family, if anything Mathieu gets it from you. Now Alfred, are you feeling better?"

He nodded, "yes…sorry and thank you…"

"None of that now, mon cher, we should be thanking you for saving Mathieu's bear."

The woman stood there with an authoritative air about her, as though a decision had been made. "Alright, so here's what we're going to do. You'll give us your brother's number so we can tell him where you're at and that you're alright. And then Francis will give you two a plate of snacks to eat while you go play in the living room. Does that sound like a good plan to you, Alfred?"

Wiping his tears away, he couldn't help but smile, "Yes, ma'am!"

"D'accord, Mathieu ?"

"Oui, maman! Merci beacoup!"

She smiled and ruffled the blonde's hair. "De rien, mon cher. Now go play with your hero, alright? What you both need right now is a little fun. We'll come join you once we give Alfred's brother a call and your papa has finished with his newest masterpiece."

The Frenchman leaned down and placed a kiss on his son's head, "you two can be the first to try my new dish, so go play and make sure you work up an appetite, d'accord ?"

"D'accord !"

In his eyes, they were the perfect family.

* * *

But that had all been over 10 years ago…

* * *

Nya~

Nothing like summer school and being stuck in one place to get my creative juices flowing! I'm so sad that I have to take courses during the summer! But I guess it'll work itself out. So here's a new, rather serious fic! All characters in Hetalia just work so well for serious fics, I don't even know why. And as always, sorry for the absolute crap summary! Here's the new North American brothers-centric fic! Thanks for reading and as always, thanks in advance for your support! Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 1

Of Heroes and Families

Chapter 1:

Alfred was beaming with excitement as he stepped into their new house. The smell of their freshly cut lawn and the sight of their new old house felt familiar to him already. He was finally back in the city where he'd first met his best friend, the same person who bestowed on him his title of 'hero'. It'd been over ten years since he last saw the other boy. Ten years since the two of them moved away so that Arthur could finish his degree over in England. Ten years he'd waited for their reunion. Sure, they'd been corresponding by the occasion letter and email, but it simply wasn't the same. And now that was back for good, he'd finally get to see…

Suddenly, something bumped into him from behind, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Alfred, what on earth are you doing, standing there and looking like an idiot? If you're going to insist on standing around and grinning like a useless twit, at least do it somewhere else! You're getting in the way!"

Turning around to see his brother hidden behind the stack of boxes he was carrying, he laughed heartily, "sorry, Artie. Here, let me help you with those. You should've taken fewer boxes! You could break your back carrying all these. You're not as young as you used to be, you know?"

Arthur let out an irritated huff, "just how old do you think I am?"

He let out another laugh as he took the boxes from the other, "many, _many_ years older than me, that's for sure! But don't worry! I'll help you out since I'm a hero!"

Having grown up in North America, he'd failed to retain the English accent that his parents had had and the one Arthur still had. He never paid any particular attention to it, but people always commented on how strange it was for siblings to have different accents.

The elder blond rolled his eyes and turned around to fetch more boxes from the truck, "honestly, Alfred, ever since you met that French family all those years ago, you suddenly went from being a miserable little tyke to…well, _you_."

Alfred set the boxes down onto the floor of their soon-to-be living room before running out after the other. He grinned happily and rolled up his sleeves, "Yea, it's awesome, isn't it?"

"Nowadays, I'm not all that sure anymore," his brother joked lightly. "But it certainly was a relief at the time though, I'll give you that much-even though you _did_ try to run away that day."

* * *

_After having received a call from an unknown French woman who'd informed him about his brother's current location and situation, he sighed and stared at his work. He knew that he hadn't been the best guardian or brother ever since their parents passed away but there wasn't much he could do about it. He needed to finish his degree in order to be able to carry on his father's business and he simply didn't have enough time in the world to divide evenly between figuring out their family's future and his brother. _

_The woman had advised him to pick his brother up in a couple hours to which he happily agreed. At least then he'd be able to fully concentrate on his work for awhile, despite the guilt he felt. He'd make it up to Alfred later by taking him out for ice cream or something._

_Glancing at the clock, he noted the time and continued going through the paperwork that'd been left for him._

* * *

_The sun was setting when he arrived at the address given to him, he rang the doorbell nervously. He wondered how the people inside the house thought of him. Did they see him as a negligent brother? An unfit guardian? Just a terrible person? He'd let his little brother run away to some strangers' house and then had gratefully accepted the idea of having time to work in silence. Actually, he'd assumed Alfred had gone out to play and had never even contemplated the idea of the boy running away. Was that better or did that make it even worse? For all he knew, the stranger that'd called him was a kidnapper or something. If anyone was to find out, would they take Alfred away from him? _

_As he wrung his hands anxiously, trying to clear his head of all those horrible thoughts, the door opened and a brunette appeared. He assumed she was the woman on the phone. She shot him a kind smile and beckoned him to enter. "Bonsoir, you must be Alfred's brother. He's just in the living room with Mathieu and Francis right now. My name is Françoise Bonnefoy, it's a pleasure to meet you."_

_He nodded hastily, heart thumping loudly in his chest, "y-yes, I'm Arthur Kirkland. I'm terribly sorry for the trouble Alfred's caused you today."_

_The woman shook her head, "nonsense, he hasn't been any trouble at all. In fact, he helped my son out earlier today so we're more than happy to have him here. He's been an absolute delight."_

_After hearing that, he was able to let out a sigh of relief. He was happy to hear not only that the strangers weren't kidnappers, but that his brother had behaved himself the entire time. "Really? That's certainly a pleasant surprise to hear."_

_She led him through what seemed like room after room until giggles and laughter could be heard. The woman walked into the room where a man was reading to two little boys. He raised a brow as he saw them. Since when did Alfred like being read to-or books in general? The brunette cleared her throat to get their attention and announced, "Alfred, mon cher, your brother's here."_

_The boy perked up and turned around with a happen grin on his face, "hey, Artie!"_

_Arthur glanced from one boy to the other and blinked, "wow Alfred, if you stayed absolutely still and didn't speak, you could pass off as that other lad over there."_

_The other boy looked up at who he assumed was the father and asked, "Really? Is it true, papa?"_

_The Frenchman rubbed his beard thoughtfully as he studied the two for a moment, "there are some similarities I suppose, but don't worry, mon cher, your papa will always be able to tell you apart from others, even if there were a thousand little boys in the room. Only mon Mathieu has such nice silky hair and such adorable features. You got your hair from me and your features from your maman, we could never mistake you for anyone else! No other child could be so absolutely perfect, mon ange."_

_He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and did his best to ignore the man and his child. "Anyways, Alfred, I'm sorry I haven't been able to pay all that much attention to you lately. But there's a lot of legal work to be done and I still have to finish my degree-and I know it's going to be hard for you, me, the both of us, really. And to be honest, I'm going to continue to be busy for awhile longer and it can't be avoided. But I **will** promise you that I'll make time for you whenever I can, so please don't try to run away again."_

_The brunette smiled at the boy, "and what do you say, Alfred?"_

_Unexpectedly, his brother got up and hugged him as tight as he could, "It's okay, Artie. I'm sorry for running away earlier and I promise I won't run away again 'cause then you'd be all alone, right? I don't want you to be lonely! Besides, I'm a hero now! Heroes don't do things like that, right?"_

_Touched by the sudden thoughtfulness, he tried his best to hold his tears back. He'd always been easily moved to tears. Eyes glancing upwards to control his emotions, he asked, "What? You're a hero now? When did that happen?"_

_The younger brother nodded earnestly, "Yea! I'm a hero now! It happened today! I saved Mattie's bear earlier, didn't you hear?"_

_Unsure of what to say, he smiled and ruffled his brother's hair, "actually, I did hear something about that. Good job, lad. You'll have to tell me all about it when we get home, alright?" _

_At least the boy was happier than he'd seen him in days. That was always a relief._

_The woman gave him a motherly smile, "that's better, you two. Now Mr. Kirkland, I understand that you'll be very busy in the near future so if you ever need help, don't hesitate to give us a call. We'd be more than happy to have Alfred over, isn't that right, Mathieu?"_

_In the arms of his father, the little blond boy dipped his head enthusiastically, "oui, maman! I-I really like playing with Alf so please let him come over lots!"_

* * *

Alfred pursed his lips, "That story would've been so much more awesome if we didn't have to move away a couple months later. But I guess some things can't be helped, especially since I promised not to leave you alone and all that-until I get a degree and found a job anyways"

Arthur ignored the comment as he put the boxes down, "So have you called up the lad yet?"

He nodded excitedly, following the elder back out to the trunk to grab more boxes, "you mean Mattie? Of course I have! I'm meeting up with him in a little bit, didn't I tell you? It's going to be so, so, so great! I mean, I haven't seen him in such a long time, and now, we'll be attending the same university and everything!"

Idly, Arthur asked the other, "Why are you so obsessed with the lad anyways?"

Blue eyes blinked, "What do you mean?"

His brother raised a brow, "What do I mean? Alfred, for ten years now, you've been going on about nothing but the lad and how you couldn't wait to move back here to be the lad's hero and whatnot. If that's not obsessing, I don't know what is."

He could feel his face redden at the comment, "That's not obsessing! I just want to be around in case he needs me! I mean, he was there when I needed someone so I just wanted to return the favour, that's what heroes and good friends are there for, isn't it?"

The Englishman let out a snicker at his little brother's embarrassment. "Are you sure you're not just infatuated with the lad? That'd be the more obvious explanation, you know?"

Trying his best to hide his flush by looking away, he frowned. "Oh my god, Artie, why can't you just say 'you've got a crush' like a normal person?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, "fine,_ 'you've got a crush'_ on the French lad then?"

Shooting the elder an incredulous look, he shook his head fervently. "No! Of courses not! Don't be stupid! Everyone on Earth and Mars and maybe even Jupiter knows that you can't develop crushes before you're 10 _and_ you can't have a crush on the same person for over a decade! I bet it's been scientifically proven or something by one famous university or another! That's just silly, Artie! Really, you and your crazy ideas!"

Raising a brow, green eyes watched the younger in amusement, "There's really no need to take it so seriously, I was only joking. But by your overreaction, would it be safe to assume I hit a nerve."

Alfred began laughing as loudly as he could in a rather unconvincing way while waving his brother off. "I totally knew you were joking! It was kind of obvious, you know? Oh hey, look at the time! I have to go meet Mattie now! Keep up the good work!"

Arthur's head snapped up in alarm. "Hey-what? Alfred, you can't just run off like that! Get back here and help me unpack all this, you brat!"

But the young man was already out the door and racing down the street.

* * *

His heart was pounding when he finally reached the Tim Horton's they'd agreed to meet at. Inwardly, he blamed it on having jogged for nearly ten minutes. Inside the place, there were several other adolescents his age just hanging about and chatting idly among themselves. Without thinking, he got in line and ordered a sandwich and soup combo with a Honey Cruller on the side. His mouth watered as he watched the workers in the back put his foot long Toasted Chicken Club Sandwich together. A minute later, his meal was placed onto a tray along with his medium double-double and chicken noodle soup.

Licking his lips, he took a seat and began eating as he waited for his friend to show up.

* * *

Alfred had nearly finished his sandwich when the door opened and a blond stumbled in. The young man immediately made his way over to his table and began apologizing in a familiarly quiet voice, "I-I'm sorry for being so late, Alfred! I even tried leaving the house an hour early! But on my way here, I noticed a really nice garden down the block and went to look at it for a bit, and then before I realized, an hour had passed! I'm really sorry!"

He laughed and waved it off, "Don't worry about it! That's just like your letters and how you were trying to think of a reply and a month passed by!" His laughter died when he looked up and his mind went blank with shock as he watched his childhood friend.

Mathieu let out a huff and put his things down, "don't even mention those letters! I'll be right back, just going to go get something to eat."

The American merely continued staring as the other boy walked off. On the one hand, the ex-little French boy had grown up into a tall and handsome French boy, but on the other, he looked absolutely terrible. There were bags under his bloodshot eyes, his skin was too pale and he was probably a sack of bones under those baggy pants and that hoodie. Even the silky hair his father was so proud of looked listless and dull.

After a few minutes, his friend returned with a 6 inch sandwich, a soup and a large coffee. It was hardly enough for someone his age and size, Alfred thought to himself. The Canadian smiled and took a seat, "it's been awhile since we last met, hasn't it?"

"A decade more or less. Nope, not all that long at all," he shrugged back, mock-indifferently. There was no way he'd ever admit to just how much he was looking forward to their reunion. As Arthur had mentioned before, he'd been pestering his brother about it for weeks now. He'd even lost sleep trying to imagine how their meeting would go. But never in his dreams had he ever imagined the other to be in such a state.

Mathieu didn't seem to notice his confusion and continued smiling, "nope, not a long time at all. So it's been ten years already, eh? How've you been, Alf? You've gotten really tall!"

His heart skipped a beat at the teasing tone the other used when calling him by his old nickname. He shook his head, "You're probably the same height as me. But yeah, I've been pretty good. You know, same old, same old. Artie's been nagging me about getting into university and now that I got in, he's nagging me about all these other things. Like today, I barely escaped unpacking duty. I mean, if I hadn't, I might still be stuck at the house right now."

The other blond nodded as he took a bite of his sandwich. "It's nice to see that you and your brother are still getting along. I still remember when you tried to run away from home…"

He jutted his lower lip into a pout. "I can't believe you brought that up, Artie was talking about it earlier too. Why's everyone talking about it today out of all days?"

The Canadian gave a rueful grin and shrugged, "maybe it's because this is the town where it took place and the fact that that's how we met. I guess that's how and where it all started, eh? You seemed to be enjoying yourself a lot in England though, or at least that's how your letters sounded to me."

Distracted by the change of topics, Alfred nodded enthusiastically, "yea! I loved it down there! We had everything you could ever want there! Artie started missing London as soon as we left, so we might go back for awhile after I finish university. I didn't like it quite as much as he did, but I'd like to go back again someday. Maybe I'll find a job there or something in the future! What about you? Are you planning on just staying here?"

The other boy drank his coffee thoughtfully and shook his head, "I don't really know yet. I haven't exactly planned anything out as of the moment. At one point, I thought about going to France since papi and mamie are still living in Paris somewhere, but then that kind of fell through so I'm still here."

Then, for the first time, Alfred noticed that the other hadn't mentioned his parents once since he'd arrived. He liked Mathieu's parents, loved them even. His father was a professional chef while his mother was a former fashion designer. After they'd moved to Canada, she became a consultant for big, brand name companies, helping them remotely from home though she often left on business trips. In his eyes, they'd always the perfect family. Constantly doting on their son and openly flirting with one another, he couldn't imagine them interacting in any other way, even after so many years.

Taking a sip of his own drink, he asked as casually as he could manage, "So why did it fall through? What did your parents think of the idea? They must've supported you in your decision, right? I remember how crazy about Paris they were. How are they anyways?"

At the question, the atmosphere took a sudden nosedive. Mathieu paused and began fidgeting nervously, clearly struggling to get the words out of his mouth. "Al…I-I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I didn't know how to say it. T-the thing is though…maman passed away in an accident a few years back…"

* * *

Nya~

Second chapter up! The best/my Timmy's combo has been revealed! It's what I get every time. The Greek wrap's pretty good too; small but delicious. Hopefully I'll be able to get another chapter up next week. Unfortunately, I might've overestimated myself and taken on more courses than a person with common sense would, so I guess I'll see how it goes. I may or may not change the rating to M due to mature themes/subjects, but again, we'll see about that. Until the next chapter, enjoy!


	3. Chapter 2

Of Heroes and Families

Chapter 2:

He did a double take, not comprehending the words that came out of his friend's mouth.

"Your maman _what_? When? How? Why didn't you say anything to me? You could've written me or called me at any time! You could've, I don't know, just somehow told me! I definitely would've flown back here or something-even if it was just for a little bit!"

Mathieu shook his head apologetically, "you sounded like you were having such a good time in England, I didn't want to say anything. And I didn't know _how _to say it either…I'm sorry, you just moved back and everything, it must be tiring; I didn't mean to deliver such depressing news on your first day back. And school's starting next week too. You must have a lot on your mind already. I'm really-"

"Mattie," he spoke forcefully, causing the other to stop midsentence. "Don't apologize to me for any of that. I guess if it was me, I'm not sure what I would've done either. Sorry, I'm just in shock right now, that's all." That was a partial lie because he could still remember when he'd cried in the arms of Françoise Bonnefoy all those years ago. He'd had always liked the woman with her confident aura and motherly smile. And now she was gone. Rather than simple shock, he was experiencing a flurry of emotions. Somewhere inside him, he could feel waves of grief hitting him, trying to find a way out. Everything hit him so hard, he had to take a deep breath to steady himself, "I…I'm really sorry about your maman, Mattie. I wish I'd been here to help you and your papa somehow. How have you been?"

Violet eyes glanced over at him, "Me? I've been okay. I mean, it's been hard and I miss maman terribly but I'll manage, you know?"

Alfred felt a twinge of relief, "And how's your papa?"

At that question, the other boy hesitated for a moment, "papa's…coping. Maman was the world and more to him…he still needs time. But for now, he's doing just fine; he's coping."

He didn't find out exactly what that meant until a week after school started.

* * *

One thing he noticed at school was that nothing was as he'd expected them to be. Of course, it wasn't surprising that he managed to make a large group of friends within days of his arrival, what with his outgoing personality and general cheerfulness. But one of the things he'd been expecting was for people to know Mathieu one way or another. He'd expected his friend to be well-liked despite being so soft-spoken. As it turned out, very few people knew of the French boy, and many of the ones who did, often made sympathetic or hesitant expressions when he mentioned the other's name. He figured that was due to how sensitive the boy's situation was.

Or at least that's what he thought until he actually began asking about the boy. The most curious response he'd gotten yet was from a Taiwanese girl who'd frowned when he mentioned that he was at that particular university because of his friendship and past with Mathieu.

"_I don't think you should be around him too much, Alfred. I don't mean to be rude but I think he'd be a bad influence on you. He used to be nice and quiet but now…I mean, he's still nice and quiet but he's changed a lot."_

That was the most unbelievable thing he'd ever heard, and he told her so before excusing himself to run off to find his friend. Though admittedly, her words continued to gnaw annoyingly at his mind for the next few days. How could Mathieu Bonnefoy of all people evoke such a reaction from people?

* * *

As far as he knew, Mathieu only hung out with a few friends, and most of them were more senior students from what he gathered as he met them. There was Ivan, a Russian student who often played hockey with the Canadian boy along with the Swede. Alfred took an immediate disliking to him. After all, he was also the one who was responsible for getting Mathieu's bear stuck in that tree all those years ago. He had two sisters, the older of which, Katyusha, was also friends with the boy while the younger, Natasha, was too busy affectionately stalking her brother to socialize with others.

Then there was Lars who was of Dutch origins. He stood out with his height, the scar on his forehead and how he constantly had a scarf on, and not to mention how he smoked from a pipe as opposed to a cigarette like a normal person. Aside from his younger siblings, to whom he was rather affectionate towards, the Dutchman tended to have complex relationships with most of the people he knew. For one thing, he had a love-hate relationship with Antonio, and from what he'd heard about the two, they had a past as well. But of course, if anyone was to bring it up, they were more likely to get a fist in the face than an explanation.

There was also a Cuban boy who attacked him at first sight and a loud German guy who always had a little bird nesting in his hair and overused the word 'awesome'…

All in all, he didn't really approve of the crowd Mathieu hung out with.

But then he realized with some disappointment that there really wasn't much he could do about the matter. Who was he to preach the other about his choice in friends?

* * *

Shaking those thoughts out of his head, he continued driving down the street. He stiffly kept his hands on the wheel, wishing that he hadn't forgotten his gloves. But that didn't matter too much to him. He was on his way to pick up Mathieu so that they could go to class together…and also in case the other boy had slept through his alarm again. After parking the car, he flexed his fingers and blew on them in an attempt to warm them up a little; he hoped his friend would have a spare pair of gloves to lend him. He'd forgotten how cold it got in Canada.

Quickly skipping up the steps to the door, he turned the knob and stepped inside. If there was one thing he'd learnt about the Bonnefoy family, it was that they rarely bothered locking their door.

Today was no exception.

Inside, he could smell breakfast. He licked his lips and made his way into the kitchen expecting Francis Bonnefoy to be standing by the stove, creating some amazing work of art. But instead, he found Mathieu standing there, frying pan and spatula in hand. And at the table, passed out among the empty bottles of alcohol, with a bottle of half finished wine still in his hand, was Francis. Blue eyes watched his friend in alarm, "Mattie?"

The boy gave a jump and turned around. He quickly set down the frying pan, "A-Al! Oh, sorry, I forgot you were coming today! J-just give me a minute, please. I'll be right back! Take a seat and make yourself comfortable."

All he could do was stare as Mathieu helped his father up and led him to his bedroom before returning and clearing the table of all the bottles. "Matt…"

Returning to the stove, the Canadian finished making the last of the batter and smiled, clearly hoping to distract him from the scene he'd just witnessed somehow, "did you want pancakes? We have enough time to eat, right? I don't think I'd be able to stay awake in class without breakfast anyways."

Alfred remained silent as a plate was placed in front of him. And the two ate in silence as he tried to think of the best way to phrase his question. "Mattie…when you said that your papa was coping, this couldn't have been what you meant, was it?"

"Papa's doing fine, he just needs more time to get over everything," the other muttered unconvincingly in reply.

Frowning, he couldn't stop himself from protesting, "But what about his job? Does he even cook anymore?"

The Canadian shrugged, "papa opened a restaurant a few years ago. It's really well managed and they're still using his recipes so he doesn't need to cook if he doesn't want to. He tried cooking a few times but it was really hard for him…and he got frustrated-it was my fault for not wanting to eat it but the food just didn't taste the same. He hasn't really cooked ever since."

He remembered how the other used to tell him that his father's cooking always had a wonderful 'special taste' to it. "And what about you?"

Violet eyes blinked, "what _about_ me?"

"Has he been taking proper care of you?"

"O-of course he has! But I'm not a kid anymore, you know? I don't need him to take care of me all the time."

Alfred was far from convinced. Concerned for his friend, he frowned, "Mattie, does he just drink all day until he passes out? Does he even talk to you? Is this what you do every day? Take him to bed and clean up after him? I think it's a problem-for the both of you."

This caused the other to frown as he cut up another slice of pancake tensely, "can we please not talk about this, Alfred? I already told you before; maman was the world to papa. Everything hit him really hard. Papa just needs more time to get over it."

Not wanting to push the other too far without having a full grasp of the situation, he nodded and dropped his retort. "Alright…I guess I'm just worried. If you ever need anything or anyone to talk to, I'm right here. Remember that, okay?"

Shoulders sagging, Mathieu smiled softly at him, "Of course. Thank you, Al."

And the there he was again. The same old Mathieu Bonnefoy he knew and adored. The one with the slight stutter and the timid smile. The one whose bear got stuck in a tree. The one who invited him over and dubbed him a hero ten years ago.

But then he noticed that the other's hand was shaking and allowed his eyes to trail up to see that the other was looking slightly flushed. With his mental image of the Canadian's past self fading and being replaced with the sharp contrast of reality once more, anxiously, he leaned forward, "Mattie? Are you okay? You're looking kind of flushed, you're not getting sick, are you?"

The other nearly flinched away as he reached out to feel his forehead and shook his head ruefully, "I-I'm fine, really! I've just got a bit of a headache, that's all. Have you finished eating? Maybe we should head to school before we're late for class. My professor has a habit of putting late students on the spot."

Hand slowly retracting to his side, he frowned worriedly, "Mathieu?"

"Sorry, I…I…" the Canadian got up and quickly collected the plates and dumped them into the sink and put a cover over the third plate of pancakes on the table which, he assumed, was for his father. "I'll wash these after I get home. Let's get going, eh?"

A little hesitantly, he nodded and got out of his seat. Grabbing his jacket and keys, he made his way towards the door, completely forgetting to ask for gloves. All he wanted to do was get away from the house he used to be so fond of. "Yea, sure, let's get going."

It was then that he realized that after a decade, despite their emails and letters, he hardly knew the boy standing before him.

* * *

After the breakfast incident, Alfred felt nothing but determination to figure out exactly what his childhood friend's situation was. So, little by little, he began finding out more and more information about the other blond. He started by talking to the boy's friends. And the more he found out, the more alarmed he felt.

Much to his annoyance, the first person he managed to find was the Russian. But undeterred by his bad luck, he asked the other, albeit a bit begrudgingly, about Mathieu.

"Oh? Hello, Alfred." Ivan spoke while smiling that infuriating smile of his. Everything about the other boy just made him bristle with annoyance. But nevertheless, he needed information. "You want to know more about Matvey? What do you want to know? We used to play hockey with Berwald and them, but he hasn't come to the rink with us in awhile now."

Not only did his smile irritate him, but the fact that he looked like he had more to say about the matter but chose to remain silent instead annoyed him to no end. It took every ounce of self-restraint not to attack the other boy.

Well, it wasn't like he trusted the Russian's word anyways. So he went and asked Berwald as well.

"Math'u? H'vn't pl'yed h'ck'y w'th'im for a l'ng'ime now."

It took a minute to understand what the Swede was saying, but then after he managed to decipher it, he couldn't help but feel disappointed. "Really? Mattie loves hockey though, has he been really busy lately or something? When'd he stop?"

The taller man looked up in thought for a moment, "pr'bly a y'r o' two…"

Alfred's ears perked up as his frown deepened, "what? It's been that long? Do you know why?"

"H's h'vin a h'rd t'm, s'all."

His brows furled as he digested the other's mumbled words, "a hard time? With what? I know his mom passed away a couple years ago, is _that _it?" He had a feeling that there was more to it than just that and was hoping the Swede would spill the beans once and for all.

Berwald opened his mouth but after a moment of consideration, closed it again. Turning away, he mumbled, "I h'vt' go f'nd m'wife. L'ter."

"Hey wait! You can't just book it like that!" He couldn't help but stomp his feet in frustration, "That's not fair at all! How am I supposed to find anything out when people won't talk?"

* * *

Inwardly, he debated going to talk ask the Cuban boy about everything but then remembered just how deep their mutual hate ran and quickly rejected the idea. For all he knew, it would end up even worse than his talk with Ivan now that his patience had been spread so thinly. So instead, he went and found the German boy who was lounging around the courtyard playing chess with a brunet with glasses and a single strand of hair that stood straight up. He would've never guessed that the older boy was good at a game that required him to stay seated throughout the duration of the match. And yet when he actually played the other, he somehow found his king cornered from all sides after what felt like a mere 5 minutes.

The brunette who was watching from the side began cheering them on, "Come on Roderich, you can beat him!"

The German let out a laugh, "You're rooting for the wrong side Er'za! It's obvious that the most awesome player-who by the way is me, is going to win!"

The girl scoffed and refrained from hitting the young man, "you were the one who was sitting here with your chess set by yourself looking like you were ready to cry."

"What are you talking about? I was just having so much fun being awesome by myself that I felt like crying, that's all. Those were tears of happiness! Besides, Rodney has absolutely no chance of winning! If the guy can't navigate around the campus by himself without getting lost, there's no way he can navigate properly on a chessboard!"

The brunet made a move, "there, now it's your turn, you idiot."

Gilbert grinned and immediately moved one of his pieces, "Big words for someone who's about to lose! Check."

There was a long pause before Roderich finally sighed in defeat, "I'm afraid you won again, Gilbert."

The boy reached over and patted the other's shoulder. "That's because I'm awesome! But don't worry, you're not _that _bad for a little aristocrat. I mean, you _did_ manage to beat me…what? Maybe twice now? That's already a huge accomplishment."

Finally, with the match over, he approached the trio, "hey Gilbo."

Crimson eyes blinked and looked over, "oh, hey Mattie's loud friend. What's up?"

He found it ironic that such a loud person was calling _him_ loud but didn't mention it. "Not much. There's something I wanted to ask you about Mattie."

There was another moment of silence between the three, then Erzsebet picked up her bag, "Roderich, it's almost time for your rehearsal, isn't it? Maybe we should get going."

"Make sure he doesn't wander off on his own or he'll never find his way to the music room," Gilbert called after them with a laugh and began packing up the pieces. "Man…I'm so awesome…oh yea, so what'd you want to talk about?"

Alfred frowned and repeated himself, "I wanted to ask you about Mattie."

The other boy raised a brow, "Oh? What about Mattie? The kid's awesome and have you had his pancakes? I could eat them all seven meals a day!"

"Yea, I had them the other day, they're amazing-seven meals? Where'd you even get those numbers?" He shook his head, "No, never mind that, that's not what I'm here to ask you about! Stop trying to distract me! Why's everyone avoiding my question? Do you know what's wrong with Mattie?"

The German furled his brows and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "huh? What do you mean? Is he not feeling well?" He could feel his irritation rise. Although the older boy's oblivious act was good, he'd already seen the flash of realization in the other's eyes. "He didn't come to school today, did he? I always skip my classes when I'm not feeling well and sometimes I get Lui to skip too to make me soup."

"No!" He was practically yelling now, "You know that that's not what I'm talking about! Seriously, why won't anyone tell me what's going on?"

Gilbert looked around uneasily, "well, the thing is-"

Unfortunately for Alfred, a voice interrupted them, "Bruder! There you are! Why aren't you at your class? Don't tell me you're skipping again!"

The older boy groaned and slumped onto the table, "I'm here because I wanted to play chess? And that class isn't very fun _or_ exciting…how can _anyone_ expect me to show up?"

The blond frowned, "How can people expect you to show up? How can people expect you to _show up_? Bruder, you're the _T.A_.! That's _your_ tutorial! There are _your_ _students_ who are waiting for you to show up to teach them! That's what the university is paying you to do!"

Gilbert looked away and waved offhandedly, "Details, details. How'd you know I was skipping anyways?"

Ludwig gave a huff of frustration, "one of your students called me…again."

"Oh. How'd they get your number anyways?"

The blond shrugged, "I don't know. But really, Bruder, can't you just act your age for once and do your job and take responsibility for your actions? Now, you're going to go to your class and apologize to them for being late-again!"

"But I don't want to go," the German whined as he got dragged away by his little brother. "Lui! Don't make me go! Please? They don't actually want to learn any of the things I have to offer, I swear! All they do is sit there and pass notes and stuff! I don't want to go!"

And Alfred could only stand there as he watched the brothers disappear into the building.

"…hey! He was about to tell me something important! Get back here!"

* * *

After a couple days, he'd pretty much given up on his little quest and opted for lying down on a bench outside with his can of pop, bundled up in his overcoat. It was one of those rare sunny days and despite the cold, he wanted to take advantage of it before all the rain and snow hit. Suddenly, a shadow was cast over him and a low voice spoke up.

"I heard you were snooping around."

This caused him to sit up to look at the tall figure standing by him. He had to admit that the older boy was rather intimidating with his piercing eyes and the pipe dangling from his lips. The only intelligent reply he managed was "wha?"

The Dutchman merely continued watching him, "so why were you going around asking questions that don't concern you?"

He blinked, "What do you mean questions that don't concern me?"

The blond took a drag and exhaled calmly, "I meant exactly that. Why were you asking about Mathieu?"

Alfred frowned in protest, "how does that not concern me? Mattie's my friend too! There's something wrong with him and I'm really worried about him! Doesn't that make me qualified to ask questions?"

The older boy shook his head and answered him bluntly, "no, not really. You shouldn't meddle in things you can't handle. I'm telling you. It's beyond you and there's nothing you can do-even with your hero-complex."

He clenched his fists tightly, trying his best not to shrink away from the other's unwavering glare. Rather offhandedly, he couldn't help but feel grateful that he had a pushover of a brother like Arthur instead of this towering figure, this epitome of intimidation. "Well we won't know that for sure until you tell me what the problem is!"

"Forget it. There's no way a brat like you could-"

A voice called out to them, "Lars! There you are!"

Lars' eye twitched and Alfred scooted away nervously. He could practically see a cloud of annoyance hanging above the other's head. The brunet who'd approached them seemed oblivious to it as he threw himself onto the blond who merely frowned and asked the other coldly, "What do you want, Antonio?"

This caused a pout to appear on the Spaniard's lips, "You still haven't forgiven me? I know I screwed up but it's been such a long time already! Jefe Antonio's lonely!"

"Honestly, is there anyone who actually calls you that?"

The brunet smirked, "you did when-"

The Dutchman immediately covered the other's mouth, glaring angrily at him, "don't go around spewing nonsense, you idiot."

But instead of stopping, the brunet leaned in and began whispering into the younger boy's ear. At one point, emerald eyes glanced over at him as though making sure that he wasn't within hearing range and a smirk appeared on the Spaniard's lips. Alfred swallowed hard as he tried not to imagine what was being whispered. The fact that Lars of all people was shifting around uncomfortably only made it worse. Finally, Antonio leaned back, grin still on his lips, "so?"

Lars gave him a shove, "just get lost already."

The pout reappeared so quickly that he could hardly believe it was still the same person standing before him, "but you'll think about it, won't you?"

A huff, "Of course I won't."

Undeterred, Antonio gave a sunny smile, "Let me know, okay? I have to find Lovino now! Hasta luego!"

Once the brunet disappeared, he continued gaping at the other blond, "…so…you and he…wait, I learnt the word for it from Kiku! So he's the sem-"

The blond was quick to silence him with a threatening look, "Finish that sentence and I'll be forced to punch you in the throat. And I can promise you now that I'll enjoy it way more than you."

He didn't doubt the other's words. So instead of risking getting hurt, he switched back to their original topic. "Anyways, look, I'm really worried about Mattie. I know his maman passed away a couple years back and I know about his papa's current…issue. But there's more to it, isn't there? I really just want to help Mattie out somehow but no one's willing to tell me anything or even give me any hints or anything!"

The Dutchman glanced at his watch before sighing in exasperation, "I've got another class in a couple minutes. Meet me back here in two hours, alright? If you're not here when I get out then don't expect another chance-ever." He rubbed the back of his head hesitantly before admitting, "I guess you've already figured this part out but, Mathieu…Mathieu's got a problem…"

* * *

Nya~

Well here's the next chapter! I'd love to have Gilbert as a TA for any class, wouldn't you? I'd pay extra just to have him as a TA. Also, I don't know why or when I started shipping SpainHolland but I just do now. I also just love Holland because he's such a brotherly figure. Hope nobody had too hard a time understanding Berwald! I think I'm going to one up the rating for this just in case. School still sucks. Anyways, enjoy!


	4. Chapter 3

Of Heroes and Families

Chapter 3:

Terrified of missing the other boy somehow, he ended up staying put for the duration of the 2 hours, mind going over all the horrifying possibilities of 'Mathieu's problem'. And when Lars finally returned, he'd nearly driven himself insane. The older boy raised a brow, "don't tell me you've just been sitting there with that look on your face this whole time."

Alfred snapped out of his trance and turned to him, managing a small laugh, "didn't want to risk missing you or anything. I mean, a lot of profs let their classes out early, right?"

Green eyes studied him sceptically for a moment longer before sighing, "Not this prof. He'd probably finish early if that Italian prof didn't keep showing up, but whatever." Shrugging it off, Lars shot him one last glance before pursing his lips, "You're a strange one. Let's get going then. I need to grab my bike then we'll talk on the way."

Walking stiffly behind the taller man while struggling slightly to keep up with the other's brisk pace, he couldn't help but feel glad that Mathieu had such an intimidating friend, hopefully he acted more like a bodyguard than a bully. From what he could tell so far, he didn't seem like a particularly bad person; intimidating, but not a bad person. A little hesitantly, he asked as respectfully as he could, "…so what is there to talk about?" He nearly injected a 'sir' into there but managed to stop himself in time.

His reply was a grunt. "It's not really talking; that'd imply discussion between the two of us. It's more like me telling you what's what. We're not staying. We're going in so I can check on him and then we're leaving. When we're there, if you upset Mathieu, you're out. If he asks you to leave, you're out. Don't ask him anything, he probably won't answer you anyways. Don't get upset, save that for once you're back outside. Don't touch anything and don't try to move him. Got it? If you disagree with any of these rules, you can just go home. And if you go against any of these rules while we're there, you'll end up waking up in a hospital."

The terms of agreement made him more nervous than anything. It just made everything sound too serious for his liking. "I'll try? Why do you need these rules anyways? Wait, you know where Mattie is? I thought he skipped school! What's wrong with him? Why can't I move him? Is it that serious?"

Lars merely grunted in reply, "Let's make it another rule that you're not allowed to ask me any further questions until we get there. You'll understand once you see everything for yourself, okay? You can ask me questions after."

A little disgruntled, Alfred couldn't help but mutter to himself, "how did this translate into 'we'll talk on the way' in any way…?"

And the rest of their trip was silent.

* * *

Alfred had lost track of how far they'd walked when Lars suddenly turned into an apartment building. Wordlessly, Alfred followed him into the elevator. Questions afterwards, he reminded himself, trying to push his thoughts and insecurity to the back of his mind.

There was another corridor of silence as they went up the floors and down the hall. Then the Dutchman took out a key and unlocked a door. As he watched, he could feel his heart rate speeding up with anticipation. He held his breath as the knob was turned and they stepped inside.

He smelt it before anything else.

Following the taller boy down the hall and into what he presumed to be the living room, he caught sight of Mathieu, much to his horror.

The boy was clearly high. He was just sitting on the couch with a dazed look on his face. Lars called out, "you doing alright, Mathieu? Is anyone taking you home later? I thought I told you to leave one of the windows opened."

Mathieu slowly turned and smiled a smile that was completely foreign to him. He didn't seem there at all, rather than making eye contact, he seemed to be looking through the two of them. But much to his surprise, he was still able to call them by their names. "Lars? I'm good-oh hey, Alfred? Why's Alfred here? Hi Alfred…I think Gilbert said he'd come pick me up later…or was it Ivan…? I don't really remember…it's too cold to open the windows…"

The blond rubbed the back of his neck and walked over to open one of the windows part way. "I'll give them a call and double check. If no one's coming, I'll drop you off. Make sure you don't go anywhere until someone comes, alright? You're not getting anymore today. You have to get home in one piece, you know?"

The Canadian pouted, "Fine…"

The Dutchman gave a curt nod, "Good, now I'm going to go make some calls and see this kid off. I know you'll probably be pissed off when I get back so I'll be right back to let you vent."

Another smile that told him the boy wasn't quite there, "Alright, bye!"

* * *

Without another moment's notice, he was pulled back out into the hall and back out towards the entrance of the building. The taller blond crossed his arms and sighed, bracing himself for Alfred's barrage of questions. "Alright, questions time."

With his mind jumbled into an absolute mess, he didn't know where to begin. "Mattie-"

Lars beat him to the punch and began answering the questions he had one by one. "Yes, that was him and who knows? A couple of us. Yes, he was smoking coke and weed. Why? Because it's less obvious than snorting it and it's safer than smoking pure coke or worse, crack. When? It started in high school, near the end of high school. And no, he doesn't do it as often as it seems-thank god. Where? That's an extra apartment we have. I was supposed to move in when I started university but then Bella and Lux also started attending the same school so we got another place. So this place's become more of a general rendezvous point for us, and I suppose, a 'haven' for Mathieu."

With those questions out of the way, he could feel his anger rising, "How-"

Again, the older boy read his mind. "Could I let him do this? Like I said, it's a problem. We all started smoking weed together in high school but only Mathieu ended up relying on it because…well, you know what his home's like now. And no, I'm not encouraging it, I'd just rather he be here and doing this than outside where he'll end up getting all that contaminated stuff. Besides, he's been trying to quit for a long time now. He's been trying to quit since he first started pretty much, he's always trying. He managed to get through a week and a half when you first got here."

Alfred frowned at the news, "Is that supposed to make me happy or something?"

"Not really, just thought you might want to know. Look, you're going to tell me all this stuff about how I could be helping Mathieu instead and I'm going to tell you that life doesn't work that way. Assuming Mathieu will continue talking to you after this, you'll see what I mean. Anyways, the bus back to the university's about 3 blocks down that way, you'll see the stop when you get there. It'll be easier than you trying to backtrack all the way. Bye."

He immediately opened his mouth to protest, "But I-"

"Have more questions? Save them for Mathieu, speaking of who, I have to go back up and deal with him now so bye. If you need help finding your way, call Ludwig and ask for Gilbert or call Ivan, they'll probably be able to help you." Just then, the Dutchman's cell phone rang, "Hallo, met Lars. Ja? Bella? Wat?"

And just like that, he was left alone.

Slowly turning around and walking down the street towards the direction the Dutch has pointed to, he frowned to himself. At least that explained the Canadian's strange behaviour and shakiness. Too lost in his thoughts, he turned around and realized that he'd walked past the bus stop a long time ago. He cursed under his breath before jogging all the way back.

* * *

On the way home, all he could think about were the terrible circumstances that'd driven his friend into such a state. He imagined that the feeling must've been very similar to his own a decade ago but even worse since he still had Arthur whereas Francis had become a drunken mess.

Once he got home, he sought out his brother and hugged him tightly.

Distracted from his work, Arthur blinked in surprise and turned to the younger man in concern, "Alfred, what's gotten into you? Is everything alright?"

He nodded silently, "I'm fine. I'm just suddenly feeling very grateful to and for you, that's all, Artie."

Unsure of what to do, Arthur sighed and patted his brother on the head, "really, Alfred, can't you express your sentimentality like a normal person? Don't scare me like that. Seriously, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I can't help it, I'm just so glad you're here…" eyes glancing down, he confessed, "On the way home, I kept thinking about this one question over and over again."

The Englishman raised a brow, "Oh? That's rare. What was it?"

"Why do bad things happen to good people?"

"I'm afraid I don't have the right degree to answer such a profound question. You should take a philosophy class for something like that." Then his brother studied him for a moment before asking him seriously, "why were you wondering about it? Is something wrong, Alfred?"

Giving a slight jump, he waved his arms dismissively, "what? No! No, of course not…" by then he could tell that he wasn't fooling anyone, least of all his brother. "Okay, fine, maybe something's wrong-not with me though!"

Arthur frowned, "Alfred…"

He rubbed the back of his neck in thought, trying to come up with a way to tell his story without giving anything away. "Uhh…let's say, _theoretically_, that you have this friend. And he's kind of theoretically having a really hard time coping with everything going on around him and started doing…exercise-like, he can't stop. It's a problem. The theoretical problem is still under control right now though since he's got a lot of other theoretical friends helping him keep his exercising to a minimum. And then one day, you see him exercising…and you really want to help him with this theoretical problem and make him stop. But who knows if you'll be able to stop him from exercising altogether? You still want to help though, so how would you theoretically go about doing it?"

His brother crossed his arms in thought for a moment before nodding to himself, "Well, I suppose first, you'd have to talk to your theoretical friend. Then I suppose you'd have to talk about his theoretical problem, perhaps your feelings and his in regards to the matter. Don't be critical, be supportive and don't say 'I know how you feel', that never works in serious situations. Then make sure he knows that if he ever needs help or support, you're available and will accept him. And tell him that if he ever feels like trying to quit exercising, you'll be there for him. Or something to that effect. Did that help at all?"

"Yea it did, thanks. Geeze, Artie, I never knew you were so insightful about these things. How'd you know something was wrong the second I stepped into the house anyways?"

"It's because whenever you hug me like that or you're grateful that I'm around, you seem to be facing a life crisis of some sort. I thought you'd have outgrown it by now, but clearly you haven't."

Alfred laughed, "You'll be sad and lonely when I outgrow it."

Green eyes watched him for a moment before the elder shrugged, "Will I? Maybe I will…I suppose this is better than having you run away from home."

Face reddening slightly, he huffed in exasperation, "Why do you have to keep bringing that up_!_? It's really embarrassing!"

* * *

The next day, it didn't take a genius to realize that Mathieu was avoiding him, and doing a good job of it at that. At first, he'd tried to chase after the boy but then quickly realized that he wasn't quite as familiar with the campus as the other. So he decided to play the waiting game instead. Though he had next to no patience when it came to anything, he figured it'd be worth it if only to get an answer of some kind from his friend. Several days went by before it finally paid off.

Caught off guard, the blond came walking down the hallway he'd camped out at only to be caught by the very person he was avoiding, "Alfred!"

"I finally got you so don't run away, okay?" He quickly looked around to make sure Lars wasn't around. There was no doubt that getting caught by the taller boy while ambushing Mathieu in the hallway was probably the worst thing that could happen to him. Looking the other in the eye, he asked seriously, "Are you not going to talk to me anymore, Mattie?"

His friend looked conflicted for a moment before shaking his head, "No, I'm not going to not talk to you, Al."

Alfred almost nodded in relief but then looked around the hallway warily for a moment, "You're not going to sic Lars after me, are you?"

"I think Lars is trying to sell Gilbert a stuffed panda he bought from Hong right now so you're safe at the moment."

Letting out a sigh of relief as he pulled the other down the hall, he spoke loudly, "good! Let's go somewhere to talk. Oh wait, do you have class right now? You do, right? Then, let's meet here after! You won't run away, will you?" When he didn't get an immediate reply, he let out a huff, "promise me you'll meet me here after your class!"

Mathieu studied him for a moment before nodding, "…alright. I promise I'll come find you after class."

Satisfied, Alfred let the other boy go.

* * *

He was sitting around and fiddling with his phone when the Canadian showed up. Face immediately lighting up, he waved towards the other. "Come on, I'm starving! Let's go talk somewhere with food!" And before the other could protest, he'd dragged the poor boy half way down the hall and towards the parking lot already.

* * *

As he drove towards their destination, sneaking a glance back towards the other blond, he couldn't help but feel relieved that he wasn't the only one who was visibly nervous. Feeling a little braver after he parked the car and the two of them were shown to a booth, he sat down and immediately placed his order without so much as glancing at the menu. After the waitress left, he took a deep breath, "okay, let's talk. And by 'let's talk' I mean let me ramble while you listen. It's a little something I picked up from Lars."

Mathieu laughed, "You really shouldn't pick up Lars' bad habits. But go on."

"So basically, I hope you don't get too upset with him, but Lars told me majority of the story. And before you jump to any conclusions about my conclusion, I really want you to know that I'm not going anywhere!" He grabbed the other boy's arms to emphasize his point, "I'm right here and you can always come to me for anything, okay? Our door will always be open. If you ever need help, like a ride home or _anything_, just give me a call! Mattie, I know you're going through a really hard time still and you know I can't really approve of what you're doing but don't push me away! I might not be able to understand your feelings about everything but that's why you have to tell me, okay? When you feel like talking, I promise I'll listen. And Lars told me that you've been trying to quit. The next time you try, I'll be there to help you, yeah? …just keep that in mind," he finished meekly just as their food came.

After thanking their server, the other blond stared at him for a long moment before asking, "Did you talk to Arthur about this or something?"

Alfred quickly took a bite out of his burger and chewed nervously, "maybe? I asked him a theoretical question, that's all…and it was about exercise if you must know. I just really wanted to help you somehow and to let you know that I'd be here for you but didn't know how to go about doing it. And it's not like this is something I can or would want to casually take a stab at and see if I get it right so…" he broke off with a mumble, unsure of what to say next. "Are you mad at me now?"

Mathieu shook his head, "no, not really. I didn't really think you'd be able to come up with something that eloquent yourself, that's all."

"Hey! I bet I could be plenty eloquent if I wanted to be! But there are better things to do with my time, that's all!"

This caused the other to laugh as he took a sip from his drink, "I'm sure you could be. But I really am glad you're here. I really am. …not right now, but I'll tell you about everything, I promise. Thanks for being here, Al. You're a really good friend."

Beaming proudly, he could only nod happily in response, "of course! I told you I'd be your hero, didn't I? You can come to me for anything anytime!"

* * *

Nya~

Yay, got a couple exams and projects out of the way! I have absolutely no experience and very limited knowledge on how drugs work so forgive me if there's anything that seems weird or out of place here! I did do some research, but you can only read about such depressing things for so long before wanting to find something a little more...uplifting. And with how I'm seeing this fic right now, I think it's going to be a fairly short story. It's probably going to be under 10 chapters altogether but I guess we'll see. Thank you to all my lovely readers! Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!


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